Bargain
by alliterator
Summary: Spike strikes a deal. Takes place during "I Only Have Eyes for You" in Season 2.


Bargain 

by alliterator

Summary: Spike strikes a deal. Set during "I Only Have Eyes for You" in Season 2.

Rating: R

Disclaimer: Joss is God, I am just a lowly fan. 

I don't know how it came down to this.

Well, that's a lie. I know exactly how and when and where it came down to this. I can even pinpoint the moment when I knew what I had to do. I was watching them flirt – right in front of me like I wasn't even there! – and she cut his cheek and licked the blood, like she used to do to me. That was when I knew. I had to get Him out of the picture. And I can't bloody well do that in a sodding wheelchair.

Which is why I sneaked out one evening, when He was gone. He'd said He was going to do something to the Slayer – wasn't really paying attention – and I took that opportunity to do what I had been waiting to do.

Normally, a few busted legs to a vampire is no big deal – they'll heal in a couple of weeks. But it's already been a couple of weeks – hell, it's been a month and I still can't walk. Which leads me to believe that stupid organ crushed part of my spine. If my spine was damaged, it'll take a lot longer than two weeks to heal – more like months, or even a year. And I don't have that kind of time. So I head to the bad part of town, where you can't go five feet without hitting a broken liquor bottle in a brown paper bag (left generously by the unconscious drunk lying next to it).

There's a place that sells magics – not your average, goody goody magic shop places, but dark stuff that's outlawed by those who don't even believe in magic.

I push my chair down the sidewalk, struggling with the wheels, when suddenly I can smell it. It has a strange smell, not exactly exotic, but like rotten fruit. I push the chair and come to an alleyway and I know it's in there. I can't see it, but there are signs – there's no trash on the ground, no broken bottles, no homeless drunks. None of the things you usually find in alleyways in this part of town. And then there's the smell: more rotten fruit. Apples and oranges and strawberries… I enter.

The place is like a crack house for the psychotic. There are a couple of people milling about – by milling, I mean strung out. One looks dead and I think about having a snack, but I learned my lesson from Woodstock.

I approach the still conscious one. "I'm looking for the proprietor of this fine establishment?"

"Hey, dude, wait in line!" The man comes forward, intent on pushing me back. I grab his hands and twist them at a painful angle. I hear a few bones snap and I smile. He screams and it's music to my ears. "Back room," he finally croaks out.

"Thank you. Now that didn't hurt, did it?" I release his hands, but then reach up and grab a hold of his head. "This will." I twist with my full strength and his neck snaps. He falls to the ground, his face facing a different direction than his body.

"That's bad for business, you know?" A voice calls out from behind me and I turn my neck, silently cursing this unmaneuverable chair. The speaker is a man – judging from his appearance, as my senses are so filled with the magic that emanates from him that I probably couldn't smell dogshit if it fell on my lap.

"And who might you be, mate?"

"Rack," he says with a serial-killer smile. "The 'proprietor of this fine establishment.'"

"I'm…"

"Spike," Rack says. "I've heard of you."

"Have you now? I'm delighted, but I didn't come here to sign autographs. This is strictly business." Rack looks at the dead junkie on the floor. "And some pleasure."

"You need something from me?"

"A spell. Something to heal me and get me out of this wheelchair."

"I see." He looks thoughtful for a moment. "Healing spells are hard to come by and most of them won't work on vampires, since they're already dead."

"You must have something?"

Suddenly, he snaps his fingers, creating an orange and red spark. "I know. I've got just the thing." He enters the back room and comes out after a few seconds with a shrunken head. Recently made, too, judging by the dental work. He opens the mouth and takes out two pills. "Afrekete pills. Made by Vodoun shamans to who have decomposing zombies." I reach out for them, but Rack pulls his hand back. "But you won't get them for free."

I was waiting for this. I pull out a wad of cash from a pocket underneath the wheelchair.

"I don't want your money." This I wasn't prepared for. I had heard that some magicians – if he is a magician – like Rack take a person's energy instead.

"You're not going to…" I searched for the right word, "drain me, are you?"

"No. Can't do that on a vampire. No soul means no energy to drain." Well, darn. If I had a chance to torture Angelus that way, it had already passed. "No, I want you to do something else. Come with me." He entered the back room again and I followed him.

Inside the room, there's a girl magically suspended against the wall and looking like she's having a really good nightmare.

"Here," Rack says and I look to see him sitting in a chair next to a girl that's chained to the wall. The girl can't be more than twelve or thirteen. "I want you to turn her."

I feel slightly uneasy. "Might I inquire why?"

"I have an inquisitive mind, Spike. I sometimes like to perform… experiments. This girl was payment for something I provided and I've been draining her and pumping magics back in to see what will happen. Now I want to see what will happen if she's sired." My stomach turns. I've eaten plenty of girls her age and younger, but I've never thought about turning any of them. I almost turn away, but I remember Dru and stay.

"Fine," I say. "Bring her to me."

Rack smiles again and this time it's no serial-killer smile; no, this is a full on demonic one. He unlocks the chain and pulls the girl next to my chair. He waits and watches, like it's some sort of Discovery Channel special.

I stare into the girl's deep blue eyes and do something I know I shouldn't. I say, "What's your name?" Rack's expression now is sort of confusion, but he doesn't stop me and I ignore him.

She's quiet for a moment, but finally says, "Annabeth."

"Well, Annabeth," I say, "I'm sorry." I switch to my other face and bite down before she has a chance to scream. I stop after a few seconds and stick my index finger in my mouse, cutting it on one of my teeth. Then, I place the finger instead Annabeth's lips and she sucks on it like it was one of her own thumbs. After a few minutes of that, I pull my finger out and let the girl go. She falls like a leaf in autumn, pale and covered in blood. I turn to Rack. "And the other end of the bargain?"

He hands me the pills, telling me they take about two hours to work, then turns to watch the still form of Annabeth. "Wanna stay and watch the transition?" He makes me sick.

"No, I'm good." I place the pills in my mouth and swallow them, along with the rest of Annabeth's blood.

I come home just in time for Angelus to return, pissed about some poltergeist that possessed him. I revel in his misery and it makes me all tingly inside – or maybe that's the pills. I decided to lay back, enjoy the show, and suddenly, my back feels much better.

Finis 


End file.
